Light My Fire
by AG.Prentice
Summary: Set immediately after the awkward, yet funny scene between Mike and Sully, in "Where the Heart Is", when Sully says "I can make a fire. So can you, as I remember". What would have happened if they had actually kissed before Mike left the room?
1. Michaela's POV

_The idea for this short vignette came to me while I was browsing on the Forum. I had come upon the subject "Wh__en do you think M&S might have kissed but did not?", or something like that, and I immediately thought about the awkward, yet funny scene, between Mike and Sully, in "Where the Heart Is", when Sully says "I can make a fire. So can you, as I remember". I've always felt some kind of sexual tension in that scene. I thought about it last night, and started fantasizing: what would have happened if they had actually kissed before Mike left the room?_

"If you need anything, just ring…" Michaela added, again trying to play the perfect hostess but feeling silly to say this to the most self-reliant person she knew. Anyway she had to get out of this room quickly, before... her mind recoiled before she had time to complete the thought. The skin of her arms still burned from his touch, her heart was pounding exaggeratedly, and she was starting to feel light-headed. She opened her mouth to bid him goodnight and bring the awkward moment to an end, but she barely managed to choke out the word. Her cheeks stinging with the heat of embarrassment, she turned away from Sully, before he perceived her agitation

"Goodnight," he answered, his hushed tone caressing her ears as she reached out to turn the knob and open the door to safety. She could not suppress the shiver that went down her spine and made her skin erupt in goose bumps. What was it in the way he said goodnight that had the power to bring everything in the room to a standstill, including herself? Her hand tightened on the cold metal, but she did not turn the knob. Sully came a little closer; why did the warmth and comfort his proximity usually gave feel like a threat tonight? She closed her eyes, trying to put herself together and find enough strength to break the spell she was under.

She jumped slightly when Sully's hand came to rest upon hers. This mere contact electrified her even more. Her mind whirled impossibly faster, and the voice of reason that was urging her to flee from temptation was muffled by a raging emotion she could not yet identify as her own desire. When she felt his palm slide up her harm to her shoulder, where it lingered, she tensed. She knew she could not let anything happen between Sully and herself, at least not here and not this way, yet she could not deny it any longer: she had secretly longed for his touch. And now she longed for his kiss.

She turned around to face Sully again. There was intensity in his gaze which she did not know what to make of. It was compelling, mesmerizing. She closed her eyes again to escape its power. The next moment, Sully's lips brushed against hers, the same way they had on her birthday. But this night, it happened twice, three times, a fourth, a fifth,... light, soft kisses, the kind that could send your senses reeling as efficiently as hard, deep ones would... Shaken to the core, Michaela felt her body go limp, and her knees suddenly buckled. Sully's arms caught her in time, but the sensation of falling lingered and reverberated within her body for a few seconds. Sully, with his usual solicitude, assisted her to lean on the wall as she tried to regain her composure. She willed herself to breath normally again, to open her eyes, say goodnight once and for all, and get out of that room before things get out of control again. She soon discovered it was easier said than done, because when Sully leant in to tenderly kiss her forehead, she instinctively tilted her head back, and this time she was the one to seek his lips.

The kiss deepened immediately, and it was not long before hands started roaming. Through the material of her bodice, Michaela could feel the heat that was radiating from Sully's hands as they explored her torso, brushed the sides of her breasts. When they reached her bare shoulders, a low moan escaped her throat. Her knees threatened to give way again, so she took hold of his strong arms. Until then, she had only experienced the comfort and tenderness they provided, and she remembered fleetingly their strength when Sully had carried her when she was sick with influenza...

Her eyes fluttered open, only to see him still staring intently at her. An unknown, warm feeling washed over her. With a squeeze on his arms, she beckoned him to come closer. Their faces were a hair's breadth away from each other, and she could feel his breath on her lips, smell his scent. Her head swam as his very presence intoxicated her to the point of completely losing control of herself. The remaining shreds of her conscience kept telling her they had, _**she**_ had no right to let it go any farther, but she only tightened her embrace, placed light kisses on his stubbled cheek ; one of her hands came between them and slipped inside his shirt, meeting his warm, smooth skin. It felt wonderful, and only made her want more of him, all of him. She buried her face in the soft cotton, breathing in deeply the heady fragrance that emanated from him. Just then she felt Sully's fingers cupping her chin, tilting it up so their eyes could meet again. There was a question in his; he was silently asking her assent for him to continue. She answered with a flutter of her long, dark eyelashes, her head lightly tilted back, her lips offered. She knew, deep down, what was about to happen between them, something forbidden, something she would have never dared to imagine. But she just could not stop. It was as if some strange, wild and powerful entity had come over her soul and body, leaving her reason helpless. She had to give in to this primeval need she could not control. She had to give herself to him, totally, without reserve. And she did.

He stepped closer, the touch of his lips on her skin soft, so soft and… sensual. Demanding. Pleading. Goosebumps erupted all over her flesh, so abruptly that it would have been painful if not drowned in the pool of new and pleasurable feelings he was arousing…

Michaela's eyes shot open. Her breath was coming in short gasps and her body was steeped in perspiration. Her hand pressed to her bosom, she willed her heart to pound at a slower pace. Something did not make sense at all: she had experienced nightmares before, but... never the kind of which would put her in such a state. Besides she did not feel scared, as she would if it had been a bad dream. No, she felt restless and somewhat frustrated. Her mind struggled to remember what the dream was about. Suddenly images came to her with acute precision, and she realised why she had woken up feeling this way. She could not believe it! She could not believe she could actually dream about _him_, *that way*. And what about that incredible and quite embarrassing sensation she was feeling between her legs? Oh dear! She felt her cheeks burn in the darkness.

As seconds ticked by, she slowly calmed down, physically, at least. Her mind was still reeling: of the attraction she had felt for Sully since they first met, clearly expressed though this vivid dream, she was well aware. But she had never expected his sudden appearance on her mother's doorstep to prompt this kind of reaction. She gulped, wondering about how to face him the next morning. And she could not even imagine soliciting Rebecca's advice about… this kind of dreams.

No way. She was to forget it, get busy, spend time with William… William! He certainly was not very good at hiding his feelings for her, but though she did _really_ not return them, she had to admit that all his attentions were flattering and heart-warming in the midst of all the scepticism and contempt she was receiving from her other colleagues. If she was being reasonable, she had to admit that would be much better off with him than with Sully, who had made it clear that he wasn't interested in any kind of commitment… Yet, she wondered, what could have prompted him to undergo such a trip to end up in her mother's home, except that he was afraid she was not coming back?

She sighed, utterly confused. What was she supposed to do? To think? To feel?... One thing was certain: she would not be able to fall asleep again, for she was too bewildered right now. She slipped out of bed and into a warm bathrobe, and silently headed for her father's library, where she knew she would find peace of mind.


	2. Sully's POV

Once she was gone, the room felt terribly cold, empty, and all he wanted was to get out of it, follow her, and finally spit it out. But he could not. His feet just did not cooperate.

What was he so afraid about? He knew that the fear of never seeing again had been strong enough to prompt him to spend what little money he had saved just to… to what? He had not really thought it through. During the time of the trip, he had been so focused on just reaching her, making sure she was there, that he had not really thought about was he would do once in Boston.

Did he have the secret hope that she would have jumped into his arms as soon as he would have shown up? That she would have come back to Colorado with him, no buts, no questions, and they would have lived happily ever after?

Who was he kidding? He should have known better: she may have come to Colorado and adapt fairly well, but she still was a lady from Boston who could not consider him other than as a friend. He had to face that he had been nothing more than a useful relationship, here to give advice, solace and help. Nothing more.

And just a minute ago, her confusion, her trembling, her red cheeks: that was embarrassment, not surprise as she had politely, properly claimed. He had embarrassed her, which is the last thing he wanted her to feel in his presence. Yes, embarrassment. Nothing more.

He would have given anything he ever had in the world for her to look pleased to see him. He had expected her to show at least that she was fond enough of him not to let all that formality stand between them. Nothing more.

What a slap in the face he got! He had let a stolen kiss, a few conversations, certain looks, smiles and hugs to lead him to think that maybe, just maybe, she might return his feelings, but was just too shy or too inexperienced to act upon them, that only her rigid upbringing and innocence were standing in the way of declaring her feelings. But then again, he had fooled himself. If she ever felt something for him, it must have been merely physical attraction. Nothing more.

He sank to the bed, bitter and confused. She had left a few minutes ago, but her perfume still lingered around him. The softness of her skin was imprinted on his senses, the sound of her voice still ringing in his soul, it was as if she had left a ghost behind just to haunt him.

To him, it went well beyond a mere fancy. As hard as he had tried to deny his feelings, he had now reached the point where he could finally voice them. But was she ready to hear him out? Obviously she was not. That Burke fella was standing in his way. Sully could see how drastically changed their "relationship" was now, as she looked so obviously comfortable with the very Boston lifestyle she had claimed being unhappy with. Here, she was different. She was no longer Dr Mike, the pioneer doctor, the generous woman with such a caring heart, the brave one who had faced contempt, intimidation, who had stood her ground every single time people had tried to dismiss her just because she was a woman. Here she was some prim and proper Boston lady. An extremely beautiful one, as it was. Yet, he was not in love with her because of her looks; he loved her for everything she was, back home at least…

Home. He now wished he had never come. He blew out the lamp, reclined on the uncomfortably soft bed, debating whether he should just simply lie on his bedroll on the floor, but his weariness got the best of him, and he soon fell asleep.

He didn't know how long he had slept when he opened his eyes again. The only light came from the moon shedding its pallid rays onto the floor. The bed was too soft, the air still bore the intoxicating, warm scent of her perfumed skin, and he still heard the sound of her breathing… wait… who was there in the room with him?

The soft rustling of her taffeta skirt on the carpet answered him. He heard the cracking of a match, caught a glimpse of her silhouette crouched by the fireplace, briefly outlined by the small flame, then more brightly by the fire she had lighted. She stood up, and walked slowly to his bedside. In the dim light, her eyes seemed unusually bright, their soft hazel hue turned to shimmering gold. Mesmerized, Sully sat up and reached out to his vision, unsure whether he was really awake or still asleep and fantasying. But she didn't disappeared when his fingers closed gently on her wrist. As if in a trance, he leaned forward, his face pressed against her torso. Her warmth seeped through the hardened fabrics of her dress, calling to him, her femininity begging to be freed of so much stiffness. Effortlessly, without even looking, he undid the laces and hooks at the back of her dress, which pooled at her feet, along with her undergarments which followed soon enough.

Sully didn't stop to ask himself whether it was right or wrong, because something told him that it was not really happening, somehow, somewhere at the back of his conscience, he knew that Michaela would never had come to him in the middle of the night only to offer herself so directly, without reserve. Might as well enjoy the fantasy, for it was probably the only intimacy he would ever share with her.

So he enjoyed imagining how exquisitely velvety her skin would feel under his fingers, how silken her hair when it tumbled onto her small, delicate shoulders, how perfect her body would look in the firelight, how perfectly it would fit nestled in his arms, how her breasts would brushed against his chest, and the taste of her lips so sweet, and the sound of her voice lost in pleasure gracing his ears, the tickling sensation of her panting breath against his cheek… And, capping it all, their bodies joined as one, slowly rocking together on that bed too soft for a lonely man but fit for a lovers' encounter.

The fantasy ended too soon, as Sully was abruptly shaken out of sleep by the uncontrollable outcome of his secret dream. Slightly embarrassed, he cleaned himself up quickly, then, as he was poised to spread his bedroll, he heard a door creaking, and a muffled pitter-patter of feet that he assumed to be Michaela's. He held his breath as she got past his room, not daring to hope she was truly coming to him, there let out a disappointed sigh when it become obvious she had gone downstairs. He considered following her, but then, he wasn't so sure it was Michaela he had heard, and the last thing he wanted was to be questioned about the reason as to why he was not fast asleep at this ungodly hour. Resigned, he stretched out on the floor, and forced his mind to focus on the most boring subjects he could think of to keep his imagination from straying again. Morning would come soon, and with it, he hoped, a more meaningful talk with Michaela. Yes, he would talk to her first thing in the morning.


End file.
